


A Game I Love to Lose

by HuntedHart



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bondage, Collars, Consensual Non-Consent, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Trans Character, Trans Sonic the Hedgehog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28724247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntedHart/pseuds/HuntedHart
Summary: Sonic's always been a thrill-seeker, but daydreaming about being restrained and forcefully pleasured by his arch-nemesis is new. New, perhaps, but not entirely unwelcome.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Sonic the Hedgehog
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	A Game I Love to Lose

**Author's Note:**

> 'Villain captures and molests hero, hero thoroughly enjoys it' is one of my favorite tropes. I'm having a great time. Sonic, as always, is aged up.

Sonic gripped a huge metal panel, one of many pieces of wreckage from the recent fight, and twisted to stretch out a sore arm. His bruises were going to smart for a few days. Still, he was doing far better than Eggman’s mechanical menace. The robot, once several stories tall, now lay in a twitching heap. Its massive severed hand was embedded in the wall of a nearby building. Sonic’s fur still crackled with electricity from the spin dash that had driven him right through its core. A single light continued to flash from its central panel until Knuckles put his fist through it. After that, the scene was quiet.

Knuckles approached as Sonic began to stretch out his other arm. “Are you alright?” the echidna said, gruff enough that he could pretend he wasn’t sincerely worried.

Putting on a sunny grin was as easy as breathing, and the fight had left Sonic bruised but barely winded. “Doin’ better than this bucket of bolts,” he said, nodding his head toward a downed opponent. “Just a couple bruises, nothing I’m not used to.”

“Glad to hear it,” Knuckles said. “And?”

Sonic shot his friend a questioning look over his shoulder. “And what?”

“Don’t you owe someone a ‘thank you?’” Now that he knew Sonic wasn’t injured, Knuckles’ grin was dripping with poorly disguised self-satisfaction. Sonic rolled his eyes so hard he risked bruising another muscle.

“I could’ve handled this in my sleep,” he said.

“Funny, because when I showed up it looked like the bot was handling you.”

Sonic willed his blush not to show through his fur, because Knuckles had a point. When he’d showed up, Sonic had been pinned in the badnik’s rigid metal grasp, quite helpless despite his best attempts to wriggle free. He was sure he would have figured something out eventually, but if Knuckles had arrived any later, Sonic might be dealing with more than a few bruises right now. But like hell was he going into admit that. “I like to let the bots get a hit in every once in a while, just to cheer ‘em up. Let them think they have a chance.”

It was Knuckles’ turn to roll his eyes. “Next time, I should let the badnik knock some sense into you.”

“Never gonna happen.” A smarmy grin flashed across Sonic’s face. He stood up straight, stretching his arms high above his head. “Look, we can argue about who saved who later. I’m gonna take a lap around the city, make sure nothin’ else is lookin’ for a fight.” He was gone without waiting for an answer.

Sonic had not lied. He rarely lied, and wasn’t very good at it. That didn’t mean he had been completely honest. With any luck, Knuckles didn’t noticed that although Sonic was uninjured, he was not unaffected by the fight. It had been a problem for a while now, and even Sonic was having a hard time pretending nothing was wrong.

Whether Sonic had been distracted, or bored, or simply unlucky, he failed to dodge a swipe of the badnik’s hand. Its fingers closed around him, a literal iron grip that he didn’t have a prayer of breaking. His arms were pinned to his sides, and his legs kicked uselessly at open air. Never one to roll over and accept his fate, Sonic thrashed with all his strength. The longer he remained trapped, the more he realized how helpless he was, the more the rush of combat gave way to something else. Not fear, although fear would be no more humiliating than the heat in his gut and the flutter of his heart.

If it had only happened once, Sonic would happily write it off as a weird fluke, but over the past several fights, he’d begun to notice a pattern. It had gotten bad enough that when he got pinned down in the midst of a fight, his first concern was not that he would wind up injured, but that someone might notice the fur between his legs growing wet. Even now, Sonic tried and failed to ignore it. He’d hoped that a run would clear his head (or at least bring him far away from any curious eyes), but instead he had given himself time to think. Over and over again, his thoughts turned back to being pinned like a fly, no matter how vigorously he struggled.

The badnik’s grip on him had been tight enough to hurt, tight enough to leave bruises up and down both arms, but it had been a long time since pain ever really bothered him. There was nothing, then, to distract Sonic from the sudden realization that the bot could do whatever it pleased with him. Crush him, taunt him, carry him back to its creator like a devoted labrador. Eggman hadn’t personally led the attack, not this time, but what if he had? What if he had been hovering overhead, laughing as Sonic thrashed?

Sonic stopped abruptly. His distracted jog had carried him miles from the metropolis, and the privacy he found was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because no one could see his flushed face or dampening fur. A curse because he couldn’t think of any reason not to slide a hand between his legs. He had already given in before he could think twice. A shaky sigh escaped him as his palm smoothed over his cock. He sank back against the trunk of a tree, free hand roughly gripping the bark as if the grounding pressure could stop him from completely losing his mind. He should have known that he was much too far gone for that.

“Not so cocky now, are we?” Eggman would say, a vicious grin on his face as he gloated over Sonic’s restrained form. He had stilled, just for a moment; not because he had tired himself by struggling, but so that he could fix the mad doctor with a defiant glare. It did nothing to dampen Eggman’s spirits. Quite the opposite; he only seemed to brighten as he realized what Sonic had been forced to accept. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I haven’t even begun to rub my victory in your face. You wouldn’t want to burn yourself out too soon!”

Planting a hand on the side of his hovercraft, Eggman boosted himself up and out, dropping the short distance to the ground. In his other hand was a band of braided metal, a sinister little device that Sonic did not recognize. “Got yourself a new toy?” Sonic said, a flippant tone disguising his growing wariness.

“Why yes! In fact, I just acquired my very own pet hedgehog. He’s a bit mouthy, but I’m going to have a grand time teaching him some manners.”

Sonic bristled as Eggman approached. He recognized the device for what it was, right before it locked around his neck. The collar was strong but flexible, snug without restricting his airflow. His strained gasp had nothing to do with being unable to breathe and everything to do with the needy throb between his thighs.

“A perfect fit,” Eggman said, his voice pitched low in a way that had Sonic shivering. Did he know what kind of effect he was having? Was he rejoicing at Sonic’s apparent fright, or intrigued by something more? “Now to make sure it’s properly calibrated…”

Electricity surged from the collar, overloading every nerve in his body. It wasn’t painful, not exactly; but it made his limbs shake and muscles weak, and when the badnik released him, Sonic nearly crumpled to the ground. He was stopped by Eggman’s grip on his arm, catching him and keeping him more or less upright. Sonic cursed as the effects wore off, and he struggled to get his feet back under him. More out of habit than any conscious choice, he tried to twist out of Eggman’s hold. The next shock came like clockwork, and Sonic yelped as his body failed him once again.

“Stubborn,” Eggman purred. “You don’t know when you’re beaten.” He was wrong about that. Sonic might keep fighting, but he knew he was beaten; his body reminded him of this with every flutter of his heart, every pulse of heat suffusing his body. Eggman slid a finger under the collar, forcing Sonic’s gaze skyward, and his touch sent a different sort of electricity humming through Sonic’s veins.

The sun reflected off Eggman’s glasses, making it impossible to see his eyes. But Sonic could feel them drinking him in. He was painfully aware of the flush burnng beneath his fur, his tail tucked between his legs, his thighs pressed together as if he could possibly hide the evidence of his arousal. He couldn’t see Eggman’s eyes, but he could see that grin take on a hungry edge. “Or maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong!” he said, sickeningly sweet. “I’ve been trying to break your spirit the old fashioned way. Maybe you would respond better to a little positive reinforcement.”

“What do you—!” A startled moan tumbled from Sonic’s lips as gloved fingers teased over his sex. Sonic clamped his thighs together defensively, but that only served to trap Eggman’s hand between them. The doctor took advantage of that, pressing two fingers between soft folds. Before Sonic could stop himself, he was rocking his hips in a desperate attempt to draw them deeper. Each movement ground his dick against Eggman’s palm. Sonic’s breath grew ragged, his exhales turning into whimpers.

“Like I said.” Eggman’s tone was unbearably smug as Sonic made a righteous mess of his soft leather glove. “Positive reinforcement.”

Sonic’s hands were covered in calluses and rough bandages rather than supple leather, but they got the job done. He worked his dick with feverish enthusiasm, making his body quake. When his legs could no longer support his weight, he dropped to his knees. With his face pressed inelegantly against the dirt and his quivering tail pointing skyward, Sonic looked more like a beast in heat han a famed hero. He didn’t care, didn’t spare a thought for his undignified position except to imagine being caught like this, tied down, mounted. He couldn’t decide whether to fantasize about a vibrator on the end of a machine or a human’s thick cock, far larger than anything he’d attempted to take before.

Orgasm loomed, eager and blissfully intense, but Sonic imagined Eggman’s hands going still. Eggman’s voice in his ear saying, “Not until you ask politely.” Sonic dragged his hand away with a heartfelt whimper, indulging the fantasy by cruelly torturing himself. His dick throbbed with each thump of his heart. His claws scrabbled at the dirt with the effort it took to restrain himself. “How brave of you,” said the imaginary Eggman, taking as much delight in Sonic’s suffering as the real one would. “But you’re making this so much more difficult than it needs to be. Wouldn’t you rather just beg?”

Sonic bit down on his own hand to stifle a desperate groan, as if there was anyone around to see him, any point to preserving his pride. But old habits died hard. If any Eggman, real or imaginary, wanted Sonic to beg, it was going to be one hell of a fight.

“Fine.” Sonic could practically hear him, real as his own heartbeat. “We’ll do this the hard way.”

The next sound to reach Sonic’s ears was not imaginary. Survival instincts took hold before he could wrap his mind around it. He was on his feet in a fraction of a second, his knees bent in a defensive crouch, his ears perked toward the source of the disturbance. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he recognized the sound of a huge metal body crashing through the forest, directly towards him. 

There was no avoiding a fight, not unless Sonic wanted to turn tail and let Eggman terrorize the metropolis unchallenged. Or unless he dropped to his knees and asked very nicely. The former was unacceptable. The latter, well… if Sonic’s eager, pent-up body kept shaking, he might not have a choice.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to lose, just this once.


End file.
